Beguiled
by LadyHeatherlly
Summary: He hated her for offering a temptation he was powerless to resist. She despised him because she could not stay away. This is a retelling of the beautiful catastrophe known as Cenred and Morgause, whose powerful lust could only be matched by their lust for power.
1. Meeting

**Title:** Beguiled  
**Category:** Het (Canon)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Cenred/Morgause  
**Rating/Warnings:** M  
**Summary:** He hated her for offering a temptation he was powerless to resist. She despised him because she could not stay away. This is a retelling of the beautiful catastrophe known as Cenred and Morgause, whose powerful lust could only be matched by their lust for power.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Meeting**

"Halt!" a deep voice sharply commanded. "Show yourself!"

Morgause rolled her eyes in exasperation, then affected a guileless smile as she turned around and lowered her hood. "Yes?" she inquired sweetly.

The guard stepped closer and lowered the torch in his hand to have a better look at her face. "I-ah... what brings you here, my lady?"

"I've come to see your king," she responded matter-of-factly. As if _that_ weren't blatantly obvious.

Despite his suspicious expression, the man's interested gaze drifted lower to take in the quality of her rich red velvet gown, lingering just a trifle too long upon her half exposed bosom before he awkwardly cleared his throat and lifted his watery blue eyes to meet her amused stare. _Men... such predictable creatures,_ Morgause thought scornfully.

"It's after midnight. What business could a lady of quality such as yourself have with the king that cannot wait until morning? You're obviously not one of..."

"One of Cenred's whores?" she helpfully supplied when he trailed off, his face turning red with embarrassment. "No, I am not. Nonetheless, it's imperative that I see him now. If you'll excuse me..."

And with that, she turned on her heel and strode purposefully in the direction of the large double doors which led to the throne room.

"My lady, wait! The king is... indisposed! You mustn't go in there!" the guard called urgently, and Morgause sighed as she heard swift footfalls behind her. She was tempted to dispose of the fool right then and there, but restrained herself with the reminder that killing Cenred's guards probably wasn't the best way to begin negotiations. Ignoring the hapless man's weak protests, she whispered an incantation that blew the doors wide open with a resounding bang.

The king was sprawled lazily across his throne, black leather breeches unfastened and pulled down to his thighs. A long, elegant hand rested on top of the thick mass of red curls in his lap as the woman's head bobbed up and down with a ridiculous succession of theatrical moans and loud sucking noises.

"May I help you?" he questioned sardonically, obviously unruffled by the dramatic entrance.

"My name is Morgause."

"So I assumed. I responded to your letter; did I not say I would meet with you in a month's time?"

Morgause flashed him a benign smile. "I informed you I was coming. I never said I intended to wait for your invitation."

Cenred closed his eyes and let out a low groan of pleasure, before making a visible effort to control himself. "Grounds for an extended stay in my dungeons for anyone else. In your case, however, I think I'll make an exception."

"How generous of you," Morgause said sarcastically. "Perhaps you might ask your guest to leave so we can speak privately?"

"Presumptuous to a fault, my dear lady. While I might be willing to overlook your little breach of protocol, I see no reason to disrupt my leisure time at your convenience. You may choose to barge in on me in the middle of the night; I am not responsible for what you'll find when you do. I have no intention of sending my guest away until I've had my pleasure..." and then he paused, shooting Morgause a wicked look. "Unless, of course, you'd like to take her place."

Morgause snorted. "Not a chance."

"Well then, I suppose you'll just have to wait until I'm done. I'm afraid I'm swiftly reaching the point where intelligent conversation will no longer be an option."

"Like it was to begin with?"

Cenred let out an appreciative chuckle, his laughter trailing off into a sudden hiss as he scrabbled for the arm of his throne, gripping the iron surface so hard his knuckles turned white. Morgause sank down into a nearby chair, watching with interest as his head fell back, eyelids fluttering closed as his lips parted to emit a succession of harsh, rasping pants.

The man was quite attractive, really, especially in the throes of passion. Morgause liked his long , lean body, particularly when clad in leather, which seemed to highlight the sort of quiet, intense masculinity that hovered about him. Perhaps it wasn't the most comfortable clothing he could've chosen for himself; it certainly couldn't be helping when it came to the sweat that glistened upon his skin as he neared his release. But as with any self-respecting man, it was clear that a little discomfort was irrelevant in contrast with a great deal of pleasure.

Pleasure... every man wore it a little differently. Most of them looked or sounded ridiculous when they began to lose control; Morgause had been unfortunate enough to learn that through a great deal of experience. Not Cenred though - his lean features only became more fierce, more... primal with his increasing need. And when he began to groan aloud, a deep, husky sound that ended on an enticing growl, she was surprised to find herself becoming aroused.

She briefly contemplated whether or not she should have taken him up on his offer to trade places with the whore, then immediately chastised herself for the thought. A woman such as herself was meant to be serviced, not to service others.

Cenred would learn that soon enough.

* * *

"Now then," Cenred said mildly once he'd recovered enough to fasten his breeches and dismiss the woman who'd satisfied his needs. "May I offer you a drink, my lady?"

"No... but you might want to get one for yourself. You're sweating like a pig in all that leather. It's quite undignified, really."

He smirked as he reached for a nearby pitcher. "A fine idea. You should be reprimanded for your impudence, of course, but why spoil my good mood? Why don't we cut to the chase instead? I do need to get some sleep sooner or later."

Morgause rolled her eyes. "I've come to talk about..."

"Uther," Cenred said flatly, as something dark flitted across his features. "Yes, I know."

"I want him dead."

"As do I, my dear lady. What's your point?"

"Let me rephrase that," she amended, treating him to the sweetest smile she could manage. "I intend to kill him."

"Indeed? And how exactly do you mean to pull that off? Camelot boasts the most well guarded fortress in five kingdoms; believe me, if it were only a matter of walking into the palace and murdering the bastard, I would've done it myself long before now."

Morgause stood up and sauntered over to the throne. "You're absolutely correct. Separately we lack the strength, but together..."

Cenred scoffed, even as his eyes remained fixed on the generous view of cleavage she provided as she leaned over his chair. "I have an army of thousands at my disposal. Power, land, riches... I still can't claim to be any match for Uther Pendragon. What do you think you have to offer that will change that? Magic tricks?"

With a great deal of effort, Morgause suppressed a sharp retort. Patience... this man would be putty in her hands soon enough. _That_ would be the time to make him pay for his careless dismissal of her powers; until then, it was crucial not to run the risk of alienating him before she'd even won him to her side.

"Your guard... the one who accosted me just before I entered your hall? He's patrolling the outer perimeters right now. I can sense his presence."

"So? Even if you're correct, what does that prove? A few minutes observation or even just a lucky guess would be enough to predict that much, and to what end?"

"Fair enough," Morgause grudgingly conceded. "But would it be a matter of 'luck' if I were to strike him dead from this distance?"

Cenred could barely control his laughter long enough to respond. "Why don't you give it a try? I could use the entertainment."

"As you wish."

The words flowed from her like water, echoing around the cavernous hall as she recited the familiar spell. The skeptical king fell silent as he watched her; Morgause smiled inwardly, knowing what a compelling sight she made as she dropped the façade of ordinary woman and became the High Priestess that could bring a man to his knees with a single word... in supplication, adoration, helpless lust, or...

_"Angsumnesse!"_

The screams were excruciating, harrowing enough to make a person cringe even from the opposite side of the fortress. Morgause waited patiently as they gradually choked off into silence, occasionally smirking at Cenred as she reveled in the stunned expression that was now fixed upon his handsome features.

Soon enough, heavy footfalls pounded through the corridor beyond the hall, swiftly followed by the panicked babbling of a pair of guards as they burst through the doors carrying the body of their fallen companion.

"Well," Cenred commented dryly, having recovered his wits somewhat. "This seems to be the night for abrupt intrusions."

"I-i'm sorry, my lord! But... he just... he was fine, and then he was screaming as if the fires of hell were upon him! There was nothing we could do! He just... it was all over so quickly, my lord! I fear there must be a poisoner within the castle!"

"I pay you to stand guard, not to waste my time on hysterical speculation. Now remove yourselves from my sight."

"But..."

_"Now."_

"How forceful you are, Cenred," Morgause remarked with only the slightest edge of mockery in her tone. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"I suppose I could say the same, my lady."

She laughed merrily, taking a great deal of pleasure in the newfound respect in his eyes as he studied her face. "Was that enough to prove my value as an ally, or do you require additional proof of my powers?"

Cenred raised an eyebrow as his lips twitched with just the slightest hint of a smile. "I think that will do for now. Take a seat, Morgause - may I call you Morgause? Yes? Very well then, let us talk. You've intrigued me, that's for sure, but I fail to understand why you need me if you're capable of... whatever it is you just did."

"It's quite simple, Cenred," she replied sweetly, not bothering to ask permission to use his name in return. "You know as well as I do what will happen if King Uther is murdered..."

"That insipid son of his will take the throne. Yes, I know. I can't say I've ever thought much of the boy, but I find it hard to believe he could grow up to be as much of a bastard as his father is. He doesn't have the balls to be a tyrant, for one thing."

"That's exactly right. From what I know of Arthur, he is... pliable. Easily influenced. That's to our advantage, of course, but Camelot will remain a powerful kingdom, with or without Uther calling the shots. Any attempt on the king's life will be met with a great deal of resistance. That is why we must present ourselves as allies, not enemies."

Cenred frowned. "I don't understand."

"We take pains to ensure that we're not implicated in Uther's death. And then when the king falls and all is in chaos, we make sure we're there to offer Arthur our strength. He is young, naïve, and will be blinded by grief. We can use that to our advantage, Cenred. Between you and I, we can mold him into exactly the kind of leader we wish him to be."

"I see. I cannot deny how useful it would be to have the King of Camelot forever indebted to my kingdom. It would be nice to know that any plans I might come up with would be met with no resistance from that direction in the future, particularly if I might avail myself of additional resources from our "ally" when required. But what about you, Morgause? What do you hope to gain from this?"

"King Uther is responsible for the ruthless slaughter of my kind," she responded quietly. "For well over two decades now, people such as myself have been forced to live in secrecy and fear. I want my freedom, that's all. But simply killing Uther won't be enough... believe me, as satisfying as it would be to strike him dead and leave it at that, Arthur will only follow in his father's footsteps without further action. He's been raised from birth to perceive magic as evil."

Cenred studied her face intently. "Yes, I suppose that makes sense. You have a plan then? Tell me."

Morgause smiled. "I don't have the patience to devote the time it would take to unravel more than 20 years of brainwashing in any of the usual ways. That is why I intend to do it in a single night."

"That's quite... ambitious of you, my lady. Impossible, perhaps, but ambitious nonetheless."

"Many things which would seem impossible are not so for me," Morgause declared with a confident smile. "Allow me to explain..."

* * *

"You mean Uther Pendragon used magic to conceive his son, killing his wife in the process? And _that's_ why..."

"Yes."

Cenred shook his head as he leaned back against his throne. "Unbelievable. What a disgusting hypocrite."

"I'd be inclined to agree with you."

"And Arthur knows nothing of this? You are certain?"

"I'd stake my life on it."

"It's no wonder why you feel the way you do," he said thoughtfully, absently running his fingers through his hair. "So much suffering, and for what? To soothe his own guilty conscience? Any fool knows that life magic demands a sacrifice. To think that he... it would be like an avenging yourself upon the blacksmith because you injured yourself on the sword he crafted. It's not the tools themselves which are at fault, only the men who decide to misuse them."

Morgause stared at him in surprise. She'd naturally assumed he'd agree to form an alliance with her - it wasn't as if his long-held grudge against the King of Camelot were any secret. But this level of understanding... the unexpected sympathy in his voice... even in areas where magic was still permitted, those without it nearly always remained ignorant and suspicious where anything involving sorcery was concerned. Obviously, there was much more to this man than met the eye.

"So you're planning on revealing the truth to Arthur then?" Cenred questioned, interrupting her thoughts. "Harsh, but I can see the necessity. Very well... tell me what I can do to help you."


	2. Challenge

**Chapter 2: Challenge**

"Tell me, dear lady... do you ever enter a room just by knocking and waiting for a response?"

Morgause hardly spared a glance for the shattered doors. Her eyes were fixed on Cenred, blazing with undisguised fury as she stalked toward the throne. Beyond her anger, however, a wide range of emotions played across her features - sorrow, disappointment, as well as something that was harder to define... a curious sort of vulnerability he'd never glimpsed in her before.

"What is it, Morgause?" His lazy smirk faded away, replaced by an expression of genuine concern. "Tell me."

"I - _we_ have failed."

Cenred leaned back against his throne and sighed. "Most unfortunate. What went wrong?"

"I'm not even sure," Morgause admitted reluctantly. "It all went according to plan until the very end. After Arthur found out the truth about his mother, he took off for Camelot with murder in his eyes. I honestly thought..."

"You thought he'd kill the old bastard right then and there. Unfortunately, this plan of yours was far more suited to the father's temperament rather than the son's. No doubt Uther would've acted without hesitation if faced with a similar situation, especially in his younger days. But Arthur's... different. Far too softhearted for that sort of thing."

"Apparently so," Morgause responded irritably.

"Well, no use fretting about it," Cenred said, gesturing to the seat beside him. "There will be other opportunities. May I offer you some wine?"

Morgause grudgingly accepted the proffered goblet, gripping it in a white knuckled hand as she stared off into space. "It would be much easier to remain patient if it weren't for her."

"Who?"

"Morgana."

Cenred frowned. "The Lady Morgana? What does the King's ward have to do with any of this?"

"She's my sister."

"Aha, I see," he said slowly, cocking an eyebrow in her direction. "Well, that explains a lot."

"Oh, don't look at me like that," Morgause snapped, returning his gesture with an obviously well practiced sneer. "She's not the reason... well, not the _only_ reason I wish to destroy that insufferable..."

"My dear lady, spare me your assumptions. Did I infer that I had any objection to your revelation? I promised you - here, let me refill your cup - I promised you my assistance in your noble endeavor. I might suggest that full disclosure would be more beneficial to us both in the future in the interest of avoiding any misunderstandings, but beyond that, why should I be bothered?"

"She has magic."

Cenred's lips curved into a smile. "If she's your sister, I'd be surprised if she didn't. After all, you can't go five minutes without inflicting your powers on everyone within your immediate vicinity. Only makes sense that the Lady Morgana would share such a... talent."

"That's what worries me," Morgause muttered, draining the last of her wine before brooding into her empty goblet. Cenred reached for the pitcher once more.

"Uther doesn't know? What am I saying, of course he doesn't."

"She's never been taught. No education, no proper training. She has power, a great deal of it, but unless she learns to control her gifts, she's in grave danger. I cannot allow..."

"I understand your concern," Cenred replied in a voice that was filled with compassion. But the momentary softness in Morgause's eyes hardened again as he let out a loud chuckle. "King Uther the indestructible, determined to wipe magic from the land. And all the while, right under his nose... don't glare at me, Morgause. Surely even you can enjoy the delicious irony in that."

"Yes," she said stiffly. "But as long as my sister remains in immediate peril, you'll have to forgive me if I fail to see anything humorous about the situation."

"Fair enough," he conceded, filling her goblet yet again before topping off his own. "I suppose we'll have to come up with another strategy to rescue your beloved sister then. You know, Morgause, it could be beneficial to have someone right there in the palace to further our cause. Why not just give her a vial of poison and let her finish him the easy way? If you want him dead..."

Morgause shook her head vehemently. "No. I will not run the risk of Morgana being implicated as long as she remains surrounded by enemies. Besides, she has lived among these people since she was a child, and I've only met her once. I must speak with her again to get a better idea of where she stands... not that I fear she'd betray us, but whatever affection she feels for Uther or his son could prove problematic if we act too rashly. I have to earn her trust, to win her loyalty above all others. It would be foolish to make demands of her before that is accomplished."

"I suppose that makes sense."

"I don't have another plan yet, of course. I didn't assume I would need one. But I have a few ideas that certainly merit further consideration in the near future."

"Glad to hear it," Cenred replied, not quite managing to stifle a yawn. "Meanwhile, it's getting late... and I don't know about you, but I've had a little too much wine. Shall we continue this discussion in the morning?"

"You expect me to return so soon? Why, Cenred, you must believe I have nothing better to do with my time than come and go at your beck and call. As powerful as I am, the transportation spell is quite draining. I prefer a few days to rest between visits."

"Might I offer you a chamber for the night then? I'm sure you have many ways of keeping yourself occupied, but surely there can't be anything preventing you from enjoying my hospitality for just a little longer." As if to emphasize his point, he reached over and filled her goblet once more, leaning a bit closer to inhale her enticing scent.

Morgause snorted. "Only to have you sneak into my bed in the middle of the night? I think I'll pass."

"My dear lady, it wounds me deeply that you'd believe me to be capable of such a thing." Cenred's face remained fixed in an expression of injured pride, even as his eyes drifted lazily down her body. "I assure you, your virtue is entirely safe with me."

"Indeed? I'm tempted to call your bluff."

"Then accept my offer, and I shall prove myself to you."

Morgause hesitated, scrutinizing him closely as his eyes finally lifted to meet hers. "Very well."

* * *

Cenred practically devoured the sight of Morgause's swaying hips as a maidservant escorted her from the hall. The motion was subtle, virtually undetectable to anyone who wasn't paying close attention, but it was enough to cause his cock to strain against the confines of his leather breeches... as if he were some unseasoned youth, not a full-grown man with a wealth of experience under his belt.

Indeed, he found it difficult to remember the last time his body had reacted so strongly to a woman's presence. He nearly always needed overt stimulation to aid his arousal, such as a pretty whore stripped bare for his pleasure, or a soft, feminine hand wrapping around his length and coaxing him to hardness. It wasn't that he had the least bit of trouble performing once he was aroused, of course, but getting to that point usually required much more than just a subtle tease.

That rule obviously didn't apply to Morgause. She only had to glance in his direction to have him aching for her with an intensity that made it difficult to carry on a normal conversation. It would be downright embarrassing if it weren't such an unaccustomed thrill to his senses... the soft, husky tones of her voice, the intoxicating fragrance of some flower he couldn't put a name to, heady and mysterious and quite unlike anything he'd ever smelled before.

Everything about her begged to be thoroughly ravished, from the top of her lovely golden head, to what would almost certainly be the most delectable little toes. And yet, he did nothing.

If she were anyone else, he'd already be on his way to the guest chambers with every intention of performing a seduction she'd find impossible to resist. Instead, he headed in the opposite direction, up to his own quarters where he peeled away the uncomfortable layers of leather, then fell naked on his bed with a deep sigh of relief.

"Sire?"

Cenred raised his head to glance over at the pretty brunette who was silhouetted in the archway between his bedchamber and the sitting room. Her cornflower blue eyes touched briefly on his face before trailing downward, soft pink lips curving into a smile as they fell upon the heavy erection resting against the flat planes of his lower abdomen.

"May I be of assistance?"

"Not tonight," Cenred surprised himself by saying. He clearly wasn't the only one who hadn't been expecting the refusal - her lips parted in a delicate little "o" as she searched his features, probably trying to determine whether or not she'd misunderstood.

It took him a minute to figure out why he'd turned her down, particularly when she didn't seem to be in any hurry to close her mouth. How simple it would be to summon her to his bed, to slide his aching cock into that hot little cavern and let her suck him until he poured himself down her throat in wave after wave of blessed relief.

So easy, just the way it had been a hundred times before when his favorite little maidservant had appeared in his bedchamber to fulfill her final duty of the day. She performed the task well, her natural eagerness and considerable skill never failing to send him off to sleep with a lazy, satisfied smile upon his lips.

"Not tonight," he repeated a little more firmly.

It was to her credit that the expression on her face was one of genuine disappointment. "Have I done something to displease you, sire?"

"Not at all. I just..." he reached out to pull the covers over his hips, as if hiding the evidence would be enough to convince her that he simply wasn't in the mood. "I'm just tired. I wish to be alone."

Cenred breathed a sigh of relief as she departed, his thoughts immediately returning to the woman who was comfortably installed in his most sumptuous guest chamber. No doubt the servants would've provided her with proper night clothes... would she put them on? Or did she sleep in the way he preferred, her golden skin covered by nothing more than a thin muslin sheet?

Closing his eyes in a futile attempt to fall asleep, Cenred explored every moment of his time with Morgause, desperate to find any evidence that she wanted him even half as much as he hungered for her.

There were no obvious signs - Morgause wasn't one for self-conscious blushes or nervously nibbled lower lips. She didn't giggle or play with her hair or fuss with her clothing. She never sought to make physical contact with him, nor did she touch herself in strategic places in an effort to draw his attention to that area. No, none of what seemed to be the typical signs of feminine attraction were present when Cenred found himself in her company.

And yet, he sensed it somehow. It was a fleeting gleam in her dark eyes, the wickedness in the ghost of a smile, gone as quickly as it had appeared. Most of all, it was in her voice; no matter what topic she was speaking on, she would look at him and then her tone would become softer, more lilting, falling upon his ears like a caress that promised all manners of delights she never put a name to.

Cenred knew her restraint had nothing to do with shyness, as she was the last woman anyone would accuse of having a timid nature. No, one such as Morgause had to be quite used to being pursued, knowing all too well that it wasn't necessary to throw herself at a man's mercy in order to gain his attentions.

But he was positive she wanted him, whether she admitted it or not. Being a perceptive as she was, she must also realize that he was no ordinary man who was obligated to beg a woman for her favors. Due to his power, position, and considerable wealth, not to mention quite a bit of charisma and physical appeal, there were no shortage of women who were all too willing to warm his bed at any given moment.

Morgause had to know that... surely she didn't expect him to follow at her heels like a lovesick puppy. What was she waiting for?

And then a hiss of pure pleasure escaped from between his clenched teeth as he realized what she must _really_ be up to with her careful nonchalance. The devious little witch must be testing his own restraint, confident in the belief that he would break long before she did.

Yes, a battle of wills was obviously what she had in mind... a battle that Cenred didn't have the slightest intention of losing.

So while he could've easily succumbed to the irresistible allure of a beautiful woman who was every bit as cunning as himself, he resisted the urge. Ignoring the robe hanging on his bedpost, the heady temptation of a guest chamber that was no more than a few dozen paces away, he reached for his cock instead.

Considering how worked up Cenred was at that moment, it was over very quickly. He pleasured himself with a swift, almost punishing rhythm, arching his back with a guttural cry as he found his release.

Perhaps the relief he'd given himself wasn't strictly fair in terms of their unspoken arrangement, but he wouldn't hesitate to use any possible advantage to conquer his lovely opponent. He suspected the same was true for her, eagerly anticipating any strategies she might be planning to use in an attempt to thwart his newfound determination.

_My poor Morgause,_ he thought drowsily as his eyes drifted closed. _You have no idea who you're dealing with._


	3. Stalemate

**Chapter 3: Stalemate**

Morgause had expected a visit from Cenred as soon as she'd been installed in the sparse, yet comfortable guest chamber. When an hour or two passed with nothing to disturb the silence, she could only come to the conclusion that the handsome young king simply didn't want to appear too eager.

A wasted effort, in her opinion. She knew he lusted after her, having noticed that familiar gleam in his eyes as they'd lingered on the soft swell of her breasts, her slender waist, the gentle curve of her hips. Indeed, her figure alone was enough to drive men mad with desire... and that was without taking the beauty of her face or her instinctively seductive mannerisms into account.

Most men didn't even put up a token resistance, hurling themselves at even the slightest hint that their advances would be welcomed. That was just as well; playing hard to get was a woman's game after all. Men generally lacked the finely honed instincts that would lead them to realize that even the most casual rut involved so much more than physical pleasure.

More than anything, sex was about power. Morgause had learned that truth not long after she'd had her first courses, and it had served her well ever since. Let a man believe he was in control, that he had the advantage, then turn the tables on him when he least expected it.

Shedding her tight velvet gown, she stretched out upon the rich furs that covered the large bed, clad in nothing but wispy undergarments. Her golden curls cascaded haphazardly across the pillow as she turned onto her side, imagining the pleasing curve of her silhouette as seen through Cenred's eyes when he finally got around to sneaking into her chamber. She smirked as she imagined the look on his face, deciding he probably wouldn't be able to stammer out even the most flimsy excuse before he made his way over to the bed and ravished her. Soft fingers crept lower as she pictured the delicious scene, but she changed her mind and withdrew them after the first faint pulses of pleasure. No, better to make Cenred do all the work.

Where was he? Surely it had been long enough to satisfy his inane need to seem unaffected by her presence; she wished he would just get on with it, so she might enjoy at least a couple hours of sleep before morning.

Sighing heavily, her eyes drifted closed. Yes, even better... let him rouse her from her false slumber when he finally arrived. It would not do to give him the impression that she'd been waiting up for him.

When her eyes opened again, bright morning sunlight was spilling through the heavy brocade drapes that covered the lone window. She frowned in consternation as she wrapped the covers around herself, even as a timid knock echoed throughout the chamber.

"Enter," she commanded, still sleepy, yet imperious all the same.

"My lady," the young serving boy said timidly, averting his eyes at a flash of bare leg. "King Cenred wishes you to join him for breakfast in his chambers. I have been sent to escort you, after... after you've had a chance to dress, of course."

"Indeed?" she responded, arching one delicate eyebrow. "Very well then. Please wait outside; I won't be long."

After the door clicked shut, Morgause rose and made her way over to the pile of clothing that had been left behind by the maid servant the night before. Most of the dresses were discarded instantly - too plain, too dowdy, or simply ill-suited to a figure such as hers. She finally settled on a deep blue confection crafted of the finest silk, smiling in satisfaction at the way the flimsy fabric clung to her generous curves. Yes, very nice.

It was only a short walk to the large double doors where her escort came to a stop, ushering her inside with a meek announcement of, "The Lady Morgause, sire."

"Thank you, boy. You may leave us."

It was all Morgause could do to disguise her reaction as her eyes fell upon Cenred, reclining comfortably in an oversized chair beside the table. He was bare chested, his body lean and muscular, a faint dusting of dark hair trailing the path from his breast bone, narrowing across the flat planes of his stomach, then disappearing into his tight leather breeches. His thick dark hair was tousled, brushing his broad shoulders as he turned his head to treat her to a lazy smirk.

"My apologies," he murmured, his voice still husky from sleep. "I prefer a less... formal routine in the mornings. I trust you are not offended by my lack of attire?"

Morgause sniffed as she settled herself at the table, focusing her gaze on a platter of sausages as she avoided the king's eyes. "Not at all. I have much more important things on my mind than what you choose to wear to breakfast, Cenred."

In truth, she couldn't think of anything other than the irresistible urge to settle herself on his lap and press her lips against a mouth that really shouldn't be so lush and tempting. She wanted to run her hands all over that wide expanse of golden skin, to find out for herself if it was really as warm and inviting as it appeared. It had been a long time since she'd been aroused by the mere sight of a man, but Cenred... truly, he had no business being even half as enticing as he was.

Worse than that, he was well aware of his own appeal. She'd caught it in his eyes, a quiet self-assurance that expected a favorable reaction to the body he'd put so conspicuously on display. It was easy enough to recognize, having worn that expression countless times herself.

Well, well, well... now she knew exactly what game Cenred was playing, the misguided fool. She'd be damned if she'd be the first to surrender, no matter how much she longed to drop the act and beg him to take her right there on the breakfast table.

"Will you pass the bread?" she said instead, flashing him a nonchalant smile.

* * *

Cenred watched in fascinated amusement as Morgause lifted a sausage to her lips, a tempting flicker of soft pink tongue laving just the tip before she closed her mouth around it with a throaty moan.

"Why, Cenred," she practically cooed at him. "If I'd known you served such delicious... meals, I would've dined with you much sooner."

He made a show of being unaffected when she leaned over just a little farther than was necessary, breasts straining against the thin fabric of her gown as she reached for a slice of bread.

"I'm glad that a simple breakfast brings you such enjoyment, dear lady. Try the butter... blended with the finest honey my kingdom has to offer."

A few minutes later, Cenred was ready to scream in frustration. Had it really been necessary to wear the tightest breeches he owned? His cock was straining against the unforgiving leather, a situation that became even more urgent as Morgause managed to spill an entire goblet of water down the front of her gown. Damn the witch, that had been anything but an accident.

"Oh, how clumsy of me!"

Dear gods, she wasn't wearing any undergarments. The practically transparent blue fabric clung to her body like a second skin, accentuating the dusky outline of her nipples, her navel, and lower, sticking to her slender thighs in wet patches. Oh bloody hell, he couldn't...

"We'd better get you out of those clothes," he said, relieved that his voice came out somewhat steady. "You can wrap yourself in one of my robes while I send a servant to acquire another dress for you."

"That's kind of you, Cenred, but I'm afraid I can't disrobe by myself. The ties are all at the back, you see. Shall we summon a servant to assist me?"

He cleared his throat, swallowing hard before he responded. "Morgause, I am perfectly capable of unfastening... here..."

Everything was a bit hazy after that; one minute, he was untying the ribbon at the nape of her neck with slightly trembling fingers, and the next, she was in his arms, bare breasts pressed flush against his naked skin. He kissed - no, _devoured_ - her luscious lips, sweetened by the lingering taste of honey as he guided her backward almost forcefully to fall upon the bed.

Cenred was a man who normally preferred to take his time, lavishing every inch of a woman's body with hands, tongue, and teeth before he even considered taking the act to its inevitable conclusion. Indeed, failing to give at least two, preferably three climaxes before bringing his own desire into the equation was what he'd consider to be a shameful performance.

But there was no room for conscious thought when she sprawled across the bed and immediately opened her thighs for him. He fell upon her like an unseasoned youth, forgetting everything beyond the intense, almost frightening need to drive himself deeper, faster, harder...

It could have been minutes or hours; time ceased to exist from the moment he buried himself in her warm, wet heat, until he released a guttural cry, spilling his pleasure in blinding hot waves of pure bliss. Gods, he hadn't come like that since... **ever**.

It was only when he drifted back to something that vaguely resembled reality, sweat drenched and panting with his head nestled between Morgause's breasts, that the shame began to sink in. What in bloody hell... he didn't even know if she'd enjoyed herself; there were faint recollections of soft cries and encouraging moans. Beyond that, nothing.

"I..." he started, searching for an apology that wouldn't add to his humiliation.

But when he lifted his head to look down at her, her expression was completely satisfied... no, _smug_ was a better word for it.

"I win," she said sweetly.

He frowned as he shifted to one side. "What?"

"I knew you'd give in first."

"I did no such thing," he protested hotly. "You were the one who was all too willing for me to take your clothes off."

Undaunted, she smirked up at him. "Perhaps, but I don't recall being the one who placed a kiss to the nape of _your_ neck."

"A friendly gesture. Nothing more. Can you say the same about rubbing yourself against my cock?"

"Was that before or after you started pawing at my breasts?"

He snorted. "Believe what you will. I know the truth."

"And I win again. Tell me, Cenred... do you always give in so easily? I'm not sure that's the most desirable quality to be found in a king. A proper ruler is supposed to be rigid, firm, unyielding..."

Infuriating woman. He should order her out of his bed right then and there, toss out some excuse about official business and send her on her way. Instead, he found himself playing along with her little game, settling himself beside her and reaching out to trace lazy circles on her bare stomach. "I think I was plenty rigid just a little while ago."

The corner of Morgause's lips twitched. "So you were."

"Did I... did you...?"

"My, Cenred, I would've never pegged you for the shy type. Are you trying to ask if I enjoyed myself?"

He let out a sigh of relief. "Yes."

"It was... adequate."

"_Adequate?_"

"Well, it's always a compliment to find a man so... eager. But I'm afraid I wasn't given enough time to properly assess your skills."

Part of him wanted to slink away in humiliation at the slight to his pride. And yet another part, one that was still spent but would undoubtably rise to the occasion again in response to this maddening woman lying naked on his furs, demanded to be avenged. Adequate indeed... well, he'd damn sure show her how wrong she was to attribute such a lackluster description to his lovemaking skills.

And so Cenred started slowly this time, treating Morgause to a succession of deep, searching kisses as his hands gently caressed the soft contours of her body. Never quite making contact with her most sensitive areas, he circled her breasts with the tips of his fingers, trailing them down over her hips to reach her thighs. A ghost of a touch, just a whisper floating across that fine thatch of hair before he brought his hand back up again, trying not to smile in response to the petulant whimper that escaped her lips.

More kisses, slow yet hungry, tongue delving just a little more deeply each time, mimicking another act that she was swiftly beginning to crave if her flushed skin and heavy lidded eyes were any indication. And then he withdrew his mouth from hers, pressing it against the soft column of her throat, then further up to trace the delicate shell of her ear with the tip of his tongue.

"Is this... adequate?" he breathed, his voice soft and husky as she gave a noticeable shudder.

"I suppose it will do," she replied, though her attempted nonchalance was betrayed by the catch in her voice as he caught her ear lobe between his teeth.

"Good," he practically purred, dipping his head her collarbone. His hand roamed lower once more, fingers trailing restlessly up and down her thighs, but never making contact... he wouldn't touch her there, not until she asked for it.

"Just say the word, Morgause," he murmured, moving down to press gentle kisses along the valley between her breasts. "Tell me what you want, and you shall have it."

She gave a haughty sniff, though her voice was unsteady as she spoke. "It makes no difference to me."

Stubborn to a fault. Well, that was to be expected. Cenred was hard again now, his heavy length caught in the friction between his body and hers as he shifted to pull her closer, rubbing his rough morning stubble against a sensitive nipple. She gasped.

"You like that... let's see about this then, shall we?"

Hot and hungry, his lips closed around the stiff little nub, laving it with the flat of his tongue before drawing it more fully into his mouth. Morgause was beyond any show of being unaffected now; she arched against him and moaned as he pulled back and breathed a light gust of air across the delicate flesh.

"Cenred, please," she burst out, head thrown back, eyes closed, panting heavily as she tilted her hips up in encouragement. "Just..."

Good enough. Fixing his mouth on her other breast, he buried his hand between her legs; she whimpered loudly as he plunged his fingers inside her. It was a rhythm he'd perfected - a tantalizingly slow penetration and withdrawal, combined with a perfectly positioned thumb, the callused pad rubbing back and forth across that tiny bundle of nerves that never failed to make a woman...

Morgause let loose what could only be described as a howl, digging her fingernails into Cenred's shoulders with an exquisite bite of pain as her entire body trembled beneath the sheer force of her release. Once, perhaps that was enough... his cock certainly thought so, throbbing insistently with a need that was becoming difficult to ignore.

But he resisted the tempation, determined that this time, there would be no question as to who the winner was. A succession of almost brutal kisses across her stomach, her hips, along the contours of her thighs and then he was there, tongue darting out to taste her sweetness as she buried her hands in his hair and urged him onward with a throaty moan.

"Yesss..." she hissed, raising her hips to press herself more firmly against his seeking mouth. "Yes, Cenred..."

He slid his hands beneath her, cupping her backside and holding her firmly in place as she bucked and writhed beneath his assault. The second climax came upon her almost instantly, but beyond that, it was impossible to tell where her pleasure waxed and waned amidst the constant succession of ragged whimpers and breathless moans. To say Cenred was pleased by her reaction was an understatement - he'd assumed Morgause would be a passionate lover, but this... he'd never known a woman to respond so beautifully, so eagerly, so... _vocally_, to his attentions.

It was only when her body went limp, eyes tightly closed as she collapsed against the pillows and struggled to catch her breath that Cenred finally pulled away, considering it a job well done.

He rose above her then, reaching down to wrap a hand around himself. Bloody hell, she was so irresistible just lying there, licking her lips and watching him with that unfocused stare that could only be attributed to a woman who had been thoroughly pleasured from head to heel. Gods, he was so hard, and despite the fact that he'd already come once that morning, it felt as if he hadn't done so in years. He had to be inside her _now_.

But a perverse thought occurred to him before he could act upon his desire. His lips curved into a devious smirk, relishing the thought of her reaction as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"I win."

It was a drastic mistake. She let out a derisive snort, twisting her body out of reach in a swift, graceful movement. By the time he realized what was happening, she had already reached the door, glancing back over one shoulder with a downright calculating expression of her own.

"No," she said softly. "I do."


	4. Capitulate

**Chapter 4: Capitulate**

Three weeks. Three of the longest, most interminable weeks Cenred had ever known.

By the time he'd struggled into his breeches, not an easy feat thanks to his raging erection, the corridor outside his chambers had been appallingly empty. He'd stalked through the fortress, searching the guest quarters, the main hall, anywhere the damnable witch might have chosen to conceal herself.

She was nowhere to be found.

None of the servants had seen her either, which struck Cenred as highly peculiar since she'd been stark naked when she'd left him. Eventually he was forced to admit defeat, spending the rest of his day in foul spirits as he dealt with all of the mundane business that came along with ruling a kingdom. Tedious... like he gave a damn whether or not the taxes on wool should be raised, or if it might be time to bring in new recruits for the army. All he cared about, all he wanted was...

... something he could not have, apparently.

It was a strange feeling for a king who had been born to excess and privilege; indeed, he couldn't recall a single instance where a woman had refused him.

If he had any wits about him at all, he would write Morgause off as a lost cause, then repeatedly avail himself of one of the numerous serving wenches, maidservants, and guards' wives within the fortress who had given him pleasure countless times in the past... no teasing, no games, and no resistance.

But he didn't want anyone else. His pride refused to allow him to surrender so easily, to leave _any_ woman believing she held such power over him. Morgause would be back with another one of her schemes sooner or later; he was sure of it. And when that happened, she would find that his assistance would not be so readily given. Not unless she made amends for leaving him alone with the worst case of sexual frustration he'd known in his lifetime.

But when she appeared again, predictably dramatic as she came crashing into his main hall without warning, Cenred forgot all about any further plans to take control. Her hair was wild, wind tossed, floating around her bare shoulders as she stared at him with her dark eyes wide with excitement.

The dress she was wearing could hardly be called a dress at all; it was crafted from some wispy silver fabric that fastened at the back of her neck, leaving her arms bare as it clung to the rest of her form like a sheath of liquid metal. Gods, but she was a beauty... so damn appealing that he could almost forgive her for leaving him high and dry.

Almost.

It would not do to allow her to see how affected he was by her presence, however, so he pasted on the most casual expression he could manage as he arched a mildly curious eyebrow in her direction.

"May I help you?"

Whatever plot was brewing in that devious mind of hers, it left no room for pleasantries. She hurried forward and clasped his hand between her own as her mouth opened and closed several times, obviously struggling to find the words to explain whatever it was she had come there to say.

Well, Cenred had a few ideas as to what she could do with that mouth. Just watching her worry her lower lip with her teeth obligated him to shift on his throne in an attempt to relieve the uncomfortable pressure between his thighs. Really, would it be such a bad idea to command his tailors to make him at least a couple pairs of breeches that were crafted from some material other than unyielding leather?

He would have to see about that later.

"I've got it!" Morgause gasped out just then. "I know how to destroy him!"

"Who?" Cenred responded, just to be contrary.

"Uther, you fool! Uther!"

He smirked, just a little. "Indeed?"

"Yes, it's perfect! There's no way it can fail!"

"That's precisely what you seemed to believe last time, and you know..."

Morgause rolled her eyes at him. "Last time, our success depended upon the conscience of one who clearly wasn't strong enough to do what should have been done. This time, it does not."

"Indeed?" Unable to help himself, Cenred leaned forward, his eyes alighting with interest. "Explain."

"Have you ever heard of the knights of Medhir?"

He scoffed. "A fairytale. Nothing more."

"That's where you're wrong," she said softly. "They are as real as you or I... and I have the power to raise them."

"Even if the legends are true, the fires of Idirsholas haven't burned for hundreds of years. Nothing less than the most powerful magic could possibly..."

"You doubt me?" her voice was sharp as her eyes challenged him. Cenred didn't look away, though he conceded the point.

"Magic in all its intricacies is rather beyond me, I fear. Very well, let's assume that you are right. What exactly do you plan to do with your little band of resurrected knights? From what I understand, there can't be more than a dozen. Far more dangerous than mortal soldiers to be sure, but to break through the mighty defenses of Camelot? It might not be as easy as you think."

Morgause smiled, obviously pleased that he had at least partially surrendered. "I know a spell that with a living host, has the power to render hundreds, perhaps thousands, completely defenseless. I can enlist Morgana's aid to..."

"Defenseless? How do you mean?"

"The simplest explanation is that it will put everyone within a two-mile radius into a deep sleep. A sleep they cannot awake from until the spell is lifted."

Cenred frowned. "If you have the power to do that, then why bother with the knights at all? Just put everyone to sleep, walk in and kill Uther and be done with it."

"I cannot risk being seen. You must remember - I intend to play a large role in Camelot's return to the Old Ways. It would not do to be known as a murderer at all, but regicide? Quite ill advised, I would imagine."

"But if they're all asleep, how would they know?"

"Cenred, are you trying to spoil my good mood?"

"Not at all," he said smoothly. "It just seems that you make these things far more complicated than they need to be. But if that's the way you want it, fair enough. What about Morgana? Will she agree to this? If you intend to involve the knights of Medhir, you'll be putting everyone she knows at risk, not just the king."

For the first time in his presence, Morgause looked distinctly uncomfortable. "She wants the king dead. How could she not?"

"You might be surprised. Uther is also the man who has cared for her since she was a little girl. It's hard to believe that his actions wouldn't have inspired at least some sort of loyalty over the years."

"Misplaced, if it exists at all!" she snapped back at him.

"The question isn't whether it's right or wrong. Only that it exists. If it does, if she's reluctant to play a part in this, what do you plan to do?"

"What I must."

"Ah, take the choice out of her hands," Cenred said thoughtfully. "Are you prepared..."

"It's for her own good!"

"Are you prepared to deal with the consequences?"

Morgause frowned. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, if you force Morgana's hand in this, and she discovers what you've done, it will be a terrible breach of trust. Surely you must see that."

"Cenred, if you mean to tell her..."

He laughed uproariously. "So paranoid, about all the wrong things. Here I am, trying to make sure you've thought this through, and you jump to the most illogical conclusion imaginable. Why would I even want to... nevermind. Proceed."

"Whatever happens, I'll deal with it as it comes."

"A sound strategy," Cenred observed wryly. "Meticulously plotted, almost failproof. Just sort it out later, and all will be well. Infallible logic, my dear lady."

"Cenred?"

"Yes, Morgause?"

"Be silent."

He smirked at her. "Make me."

* * *

Of all the infuriating... Morgause had expected him to be humbled after their last meeting, imagining a far more subdued Cenred who would still be smarting from the humiliation of being left completely unsatisfied. It had been a stroke of genius at the time - granted, it hadn't been easy to get up and walk away from what had promised to be a very satisfying rut, but in exchange for showing him once and for all who was truly in control? Definitely worth the denial of her own pleasure.

Instead of being submissive, however, he was even more cocky this time around, not flinching from her angry and slightly bewildered glare as he awaited her next move. Oh, it made her furious... furious, and incredibly aroused.

To hell with it. She didn't have time for games, not when she had every intention of putting the first step of her plan into action on the morrow. Let Cenred think what he liked - he was there to be used at her discretion, and she fully intended to take advantage of the situation whenever and however she liked.

"Send your guards away," she said softly.

Cenred raised one eyebrow. "Craving a bit of privacy while you throttle me, dear lady?"

"Perhaps later. For now, I have something else in mind."

"And what's that?"

"It involves you bending me over that elegant throne of yours and doing whatever you like with me."

He didn't quite manage to hide his quick intake of breath, nor the sudden flare in his eyes in response to her words. Nonetheless, his face remained impassive as he shook his head. "And have you pull another one of your tricks on me? No thank you; I am not so desperate that I'm willing to accept whatever scraps you throw at me like some half starved dog."

Morgause shrugged and turned away.

"Wait."

* * *

As if he were worried she might put a stop to it at any moment, Cenred didn't waste any time getting Morgause exactly where he wanted her. There was no time for the leisurely play he'd treated her to the last time, only the brutal onslaught of his mouth against hers, followed by the loud ripping of fabric and a series of muttered curses as he struggled out of his undeniably appealing, yet completely impractical leather vestments.

He spun her around, pushing her hair aside and sinking his teeth into her neck as his hands slid down her naked body, pausing to squeeze her breasts before moving down, making her gasp aloud as he plunged his fingers inside her without warning.

He chuckled in her ear, a dark, seductive sound, as he brought his hand back up to hold the evidence of her arousal before her eyes. And then she didn't care... didn't give a damn how obvious it was that she wanted him as he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her down over the throne. Already panting with the sheer anticipation of what was to come, Morgause braced herself, hands gripping the armrests so hard her knuckles turned white as he pressed himself against her from behind.

"Now!" she hissed from between clenched teeth.

And then she could feel his hesitation, knowing there was a part of him that wanted to refuse in light of what she'd done to him before. It was a losing battle; she smiled to herself as she spread her legs a little further apart and rubbed up against him in a slow, sensuous rhythm.

Cenred growled almost menacingly, slamming into her with a force that had her scrabbling for purchase as he gripped her by the hips, withdrawing only to thrust even harder the second time around. He set a swift, punishing rhythm, fingers biting into her skin so roughly that she knew she'd have bruises for days to come and she loved every minute of it, pushing back to meet his thrusts and crying out her encouragement as he drove into her like some primal force of nature.

Morgause had been with more than a few men in her time, but never like this... never so hard, so deep, bringing on a complete loss of control she'd have never thought herself capable of. She climaxed for the first time, whimpering his name as she shuddered from head to toe, and then her legs gave out; she would've collapsed to the floor if it hadn't been for his powerful grip, holding her firmly in place as he strained above her with a series of ragged grunts and the occasional muttered curse.

She closed her eyes, utterly spent and yet somehow hungry for more as he moved in and out of her, seeming to fill her more and more completely each time. The second release came as a surprise; one moment she was languid, intoxicated by nothing more than the sheer bliss of having him inside her, and the next, she was crying her passion to the rafters above as her body tightened around him, her pulsing almost keeping time with his own as his hips jerked out of rhythm and he came with a guttural shout.

He slumped over her then, bracing his own hands on the throne to keep himself from crushing her as he struggled for breath. It took some maneuvering - Morgause wasn't even sure how it happened, but a moment later, he was seated and she was in his lap, her face buried against his neck as he rubbed lazy circles between her shoulder blades.

"That was..." he started shakily.

"Indeed. I'm almost sorry..."

But even now, surprisingly vulnerable and sated beyond all imagining, she couldn't quite bring herself to finish the statement... that she regretted the fact that she'd denied them both this pleasure for far longer than was necessary. If Cenred guessed at her meaning, however, he had the courtesy not to acknowledge it, and somehow, that earned her trust in a way that none of his previous actions on her behalf had done.

That was the moment Morgause truly surrendered, relinquishing something she'd only ever used for pleasure and power in favor of becoming a lover. There would be other struggles in their future, numerous arguments and battles of will to contend with. But in this one thing, at least, she was willing to forgo her constant need for dominance, giving herself over to something that suddenly seemed infinitely more appealing.

Cenred might never have her heart - Morgause wasn't sure she'd be capable of such a thing even if she'd wanted it. But her body was now his for the taking, just as his now lay firmly in her possession.


End file.
